


tempus fugit

by Nicnac



Series: ergo sum [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bittersweet, Family, Friendship, Gen, Non-Linear Causality, Pancakes, Same Coin Theory (Gravity Falls), Screwy Timeline, Stable Time Loop, more or less, narrative parallels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: Jheselbraum's life happens out of order





	tempus fugit

When she was still young, no longer a child, but still only young, even by the standards she was keeping at the time, she had a dream. It was an ordinary sort of dream to begin with, full of nonsense and non-sequiturs when suddenly everything was awash in bright red. An eye glowing inky poisonous black appeared in the sky and she could feel its rage pushing, pressing down like nothing she’d ever felt before. A voice shrieked at her, “You can’t have him; HE’S MINE.”

Just as she thought she would be consumed, either by the still unseen being the eye belonged to or by her own terror, something shifted.  The sky began pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat, and with each pulse the bright red color faded until it was reduced to a soft pink. The eye had disappeared, and in its place there was a speck out in the distance, slowly meandering across the sky and getting closer all the while.

Finally it drew near enough for her to see it was an odd looking creature, no bigger than her hand, with two eyes and a rounded face and some sort of fringe around its head, the whole thing shining wetly in the light. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen and she thought it ought to repulse her – imagine only having two eyes! But rather than repulsed, she felt that this creature was by far the most magnificent thing she had ever and would ever have the fortune to encounter. She would call it awe-inspiring, except she felt no awe. That wasn’t because of anything in her, she was sure, but because the creature was far too playful to find awe to be of any use to it, so it deliberately chose not to inspire any.

The creature came near enough that she might touch it, but she didn’t dare. Then, with a flick of its tail, the creature turned around and floated back in the other direction, staying at about the level of her head. It didn’t turn to look at her over its shoulder at her like a more ordinary being might, appearing to have every confidence that she would diligently follow. And, of course, she did.

She couldn’t say how far or for how long they went through that pink place, it floating and her walking behind. The time and distance seemed to stretch out before her like an eternity, but she never grew hungry or thirsty and never needed to stop to rest. Finally after what might have been a million million years or might have only been the barest fraction of an eye blink, the creature stopped.

It made a slow backflip in the air, halting midway through so that it was looking at her directly, but upside down. There was a natural urge to tilt her head to the side to compensate, but she held its gaze straight on, and was rewarded a minute later when it rotated so it was facing her right-side up, looking positively delighted. The creature approached her, and she held perfectly still, only closing her eyes at the very last second, right before the creature gently but firmly pressed its tongue to the space directly between her top two eyes.

She could see _everything_.

The entirety of existence and everything beyond it was crystal clear before her closed eyes. She could see the fabric of the universe from the meanest thread all the way to the pattern it weaved together to form. It was the most beautiful, terrible, glorious thing she had ever seen. And then Axolotl pulled away and in an instant, like sand pouring between open fingers it was gone, leaving only a few stray grains clinging.

She fell to her knees, and the only thing saving her from sobbing inconsolably was that the loss was far beyond her ability to comprehend anymore. She looked up at Axolotl and only barely manage to croak out the word “please.”

Axolotl considered her carefully, its head tilting quizzically to the side. Then it smiled at her and said, “You’ll get there.”

When she woke up, she was no longer in her own time or even her own dimension. No, that wasn’t quite right. She was no longer in the dimension she’d come from, but she was also no longer the person she had been before either. She looked around at the stunning vistas sprawled out before her on her mountaintop and thought that right here and now would suit her very fine indeed.

With her new home and her new self she needed a new name; her old one didn’t fit anymore. People back where she had been from had been trying for weeks, months, years to get her to select a new name and finish her transition into adulthood, but it wasn’t until just now upon completing her pilgrimage here to Dimension 52 that she felt ready for it. Jheselbraum then, in honor of her journey. The very same people would likely regard her with arch disbelief if they heard her selection, but they were there and she was here and Jheselbraum suited her just fine.

Jheselbraum built her home by her own hand, stone by stone. Before she had come to Dimension 52, she wouldn’t have had the first idea how to build even a rickety lean-to, much less the elegantly simple temple that she erected on the mountaintop, but she found that she only had to look for the information in her mind to find it. Her body was the larger problem; she was not made for this type of task. But she had time enough to work on it and eventually she was able to get it built to her satisfaction, which left one step remaining. Jheselbraum placed her hands against the stone wall and pushed with her powers until a piece of them broke off and settled around her temple. It wasn’t enough to give the building any sort of sentience beyond a deep and vague awareness, but that wasn’t her objective anyway. Her goal was to ensure that as long as she remained, her temple would too. Once that was done, she retired to the inside to work on her powers. Axolotl had said that she would get there, and so she would.

She passed a very long peaceful while on her mountaintop, at least a hundred lifetimes, she was sure, though she didn’t pay too much attention to the passing of time. For most of that while Jheselbraum was completely alone, as there didn’t appear to be any sentient beings native to this dimension. Occasionally though, travelers stumbled upon it. Jheselbraum tried to pay them no mind as they went about their way, but they almost inevitably spotted her temple up on her mountain and hiked their way up to her. Once they reached her, she always discovered their company to be less onerous than she had been anticipating, and she even enjoyed answering their questions for them, if for no other reason than it made it easier to discover where the limits on her ability to see lay. None of her guest were particularly inclined to linger, indeed by her standards most of them couldn’t live long enough to linger, but only rarely did they leave promptly enough to suit her.

When she was still young, not young by most standards, but young by the standards she was living by at the time, he came. She felt him the instant he arrived in her dimension, but that was hardly unusual. Jheselbraum always knew when she had visitors in her dimension, and ones with powers that went beyond what was generally average across the multiverse like this one made themselves particularly hard to miss. This time though, there was something particular about the feel of the power, something that she would have said was unmistakable, except the idea that she had somehow mistaken it seemed much more likely than the alternative. Even so, Jheselbraum decided, for the very first time, to walk down the mountain to meet her guest.

Jheselbraum was quick as she made her way down the mountain, in part because her body rarely got worn out due to physical exertion anymore and in part because of her sure-footedness as she picked her way down the mountain trails. She had lived here long enough to know every square inch of land, and even where things had shifted since her last visit it was well within her abilities to see the easiest way down. She kept some bit of awareness on her guest so she could keep heading in his direction as she went. Despite that, she must not have been keeping a close enough watch on him, as when she was a little more than halfway down she quite suddenly came across him as he was simultaneously making his way up the mountain, equally sure-footed by virtue of  floating two feet in the air above the uneven terrain.

He existed in a least seven different dimensions when she approached, but he dropped down to three as soon as he saw her. She wasn’t sure if this was intended as a politeness on his part, or if was merely for his own benefit; Jheselbraum imagined it must be frustrating to interact with someone who existed on too small a plane to see all of you, though she personally could see far beyond the world she existed in.  His current outward form didn’t appear much different than it had when she first spotted him, though it looked more natural now, as if it were originally designed for only three or maybe four dimensions, and he had kept it with him when he expanded. His body shape was roughly the same as her own, if only about three-quarters the overall size. His skin tone was a sort of peach and his hair gray and he had one of those nose things some species had and two eyes. Jheselbraum was particularly fond of beings with two eyes.

All of that she took in without fully registering it, too intent the particular shape and curl of his power around him. It truly was unmistakable after all, because while she might question what she felt at a distance, Jheselbraum would not doubt that which she saw with her own eyes. Though his power was uniquely his own, it clearly originated from the same well-spring as hers. This man too had been touched by Axolotl.

“Hey look, a person. I was starting to get worried this dimension was completely empty and what’s even the point of walking on air if you’re not going to amazed and astound someone?”

“You’re not walking on air,” Jheselbraum said, the words coming out automatically despite her shock. Immediately afterward she chided herself as a fool – that was not what she wanted the first thing that she said to the only other being like her to be.

“Don’t pretend like you think it’s a cheap trick. You were wide-eyed a minute ago and with seven of them, that’s a lot of eye. Besides, this is one hundred percent genuine floating – no mirrors, no wires, and nothing up my sleeves,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to question your abilities,” Jheselbraum assured him. “I only meant that walking on air implies that you’ve forced the air molecules beneath you to stiffen up to hold you, but you haven’t. You’re standing on top of your own power.”

“Huh,” he said, picking up his feet one by one and peering under them. “I guess you’re right. But how did you know that?”

“I can see it. Can’t you?” Jheselbraum asked. She couldn’t imagine how he wouldn’t be able to, given how large and how old his power was.

“I’m really more of a doer than a seer,” he said. “So I’m guessing that’s your place up there at the top of the mountain.”

“Yes, that’s my home. Would you like to come stay for a while?”

“That was the plan. Hop on, and we’ll take the quick way up.”

“Hop on?” Jheselbraum echoed. Hop on to what?

“You said you could see where I’m standing on my power, right? If you can see it, then I bet you could step right on up and I’ll float us to the top.” As he said it the power beneath his feet flared and widened out until there was a platform easily large enough for them both to stand on.

Jheselbraum eyed the platform skeptically. Yes it was holding him up, but it was his own power; there seemed to be no reason that it should even be tangible to her. Rather than stepping up straight away and risking falling down when her foot passed right through, she tried to place her hand on it first, unsuccessfully. Jheselbraum frowned a little, then an idea occurred to her. She inspected his feet closely, looking for how he was pooling his power there, then tried to mimic it on her hand. Her attempts didn’t generate anything nearly as impressive as his – certainly nothing strong enough to walk on – but this time when she placed her hand down rested firmly on top of his platform.

He gave a start, then eyed her speculatively. “You’ve got a lot of power yourself, don’t you?”

“To my knowledge – and I am very knowledgeable – there are only two beings anywhere with more power than myself.” Axolotl, and the person standing before her now.

“That so,” he said, looking inordinately pleased. “What’s your name anyway? I mean, I could call you Seven-Eyes, but I’m guessing you got something else you’d prefer.”

“My name is Jheselbraum.”

 “Jheselbraum?” He pronounced it flawlessly, despite it having in it sounds that should have been impossible for him, assuming she was right about the shape of his vocal cords. “That’s an unusual name. Maybe not where you’re from, I guess.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s an unusual name everywhere,” she assured him. There might be other dimensions that spoke other languages with names that sounded similar to her own, but in the dimension she originally came from, she had never heard of the word _jheselbraum_ being used as a name before.

“Your parents were hippies, huh?” he asked teasingly.

“My parents? I may be younger than you, but I’m not an infant,” she protested. Jheselbraum hadn’t gone by the name her parents gave her since her first growth.

“Fair enough,” he said.

He hadn’t offered his name to her when she had given her own, but since he had asked her for it, she assumed he wouldn’t find her rude for asking as well. “What should I call you?”

He shrugged. “’Hey good-looking’ works.”

“And you’re calling my name unusual?”

“Well it’s not my official name, but you sure can call me that if you want. Or you can pick something else, as long as whatever you pick is good enough for me.”

“You would allow me to pick your name for you?” Jheselbraum asked. She knew that not every culture gave the full weight of importance to names that the one she had been raised in did, but that didn’t change how she felt about it.

“Why not? I got bored of the last one I was using anyway.”

Jheselbraum gave the matter full and weighty consideration. When he spoke, he used his power to make it sound as though he were speaking whatever language the listener spoke, but if she listened closely she could hear the echo underneath of his native dialect, and she cast her mind to names from the culture that language came from. She quickly discarded a large number of the names that passed through her mind on the grounds that she would not be able to properly vocalize them and if he was able to say her name correctly she wanted to be able to do the same for him. Beyond that, the name should be short and direct. Short, direct and simple. Not because the man himself was simple, but because he wasn’t and she thought the contrast would suit him well. Finally she sorted through the names for one that was unlike anything that anyone she’d ever met had had, because he himself was unlike anyone she’d ever met before, save for perhaps Axolotl a little bit around the edges.

After a long deliberation Jheselbraum picked a name that fit her criteria and also tugged on her like it might have some meaning to him. “I’m going to call you Bill.”

Bill’s lips curled up. “I don’t think I’ve ever been Bill before. I like it.”

“Good; I’m glad.” With the issue of names settled there seemed to be no reason not to move on back to her temple. Jheselbraum lifted her skirts and stepped up on to the platform behind Bill. There was a moment right before she put her full weight on it that she worried that it wouldn’t hold her – Bill was so much smaller than her not to mention he didn’t look dense enough to even sink in water – but it took her weight easily, and then she felt silly for worrying.

“You know,” Bill said, looking over his shoulder at her, “if you’ve got all that power why don’t you just fly yourself? Flying’s easy; it’s one of the first things I learned how to do. Well, it might have been anyway.”

The short answer was she didn’t fly because she couldn’t. Jheselbraum was barely able to pool enough power at her feet to allow her to interact with Bill’s power, she certainly wouldn’t be able to create something strong enough to stand on. That didn’t explain why she couldn’t, though. Her power was less than Bill’s, but Bill wasn’t even beginning to use all his power to fly, and the amount that he was using was little enough that she should be able to match it. Maybe it was merely that she hadn’t tried to stretch her powers in that way before, or maybe it was that Bill’s powers were naturally better suited to such displays than hers were or likely it was a bit of both of those things as well as some other factors that had yet to occur to her. Finally, to answer Bill’s question, Jheselbraum offered up, “I’m a seer, not a doer.”

Bill laughed. “Alright, then let’s see about getting back to your place and getting some grub. You got pancakes? It’s been forever since I’ve been to a dimension where they have decent pancakes.”

Jheselbraum had never heard of pancakes before, but the knowledge of what they were and how they were made came easily to her mind when she searched for it. She didn’t have most of the necessary ingredients, but if she applied herself, she could likely find a way to make something close enough to pancakes to be termed decent. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once she had finished them, Bill proclaimed her “pancakes” to be not quite right, but good for a first attempt. It wasn’t the first time that Jheselbraum had failed to accurately recreate a guest’s native dish, but this time she was determined. Jheselbraum would find a way to make pancakes. She spent weeks on it, making multiple batches a day, slightly altering the recipe each time. She’d reached the level of decent sometime in the second week, but that was no longer good enough. Jheselbraum wanted her pancakes to be perfect.

One day Bill came into the kitchen as Jheselbraum was pouring over the copies of all her previous attempts, comparing precise ratios of different plants that she had used in different flour substitutions and laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this serious about pancakes before.”

“This is so much more difficult than it ought to be. I begin to suspect you did it on purpose,” Jheselbraum said.

Bill held his hand out and a tub of some kind of white paste appeared in it. “Here. You’ve been missing the sour cream.”

A myriad of recipes flickered through her head, different variants from the ones she had been using as a base and all featuring sour cream as an ingredient. Jheselbraum allowed herself a moment of annoyance – she had spent weeks and weeks on trying to perfect her substitutions, so of course it was her recipe that was the problem – then thanked Bill. “I should be able to get it now that I know what I’ve been doing wrong. I don’t think I can use something you’ve conjured for me as an ingredient though; it feels like cheating.”

With a twist of Bill’s hand, the sour cream disappeared. “Suit yourself. I was just trying to help you get me out of your hair faster.”

“I don’t have hair,” Jheselbraum pointed out. “Even if I did, you wouldn’t be in it. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

“Really?” asked Bill and there was a hopeful note to his voice that Jheselbraum hadn’t expected. From their conversations she knew he was a dimensional traveler by choice, and that he enjoyed visiting new places and seeing new things. No matter how much she might want him to stay, she had assumed he wouldn’t want to be held down to one place for very long.

“Really. The two of us are of a kind.” Not in personality or temperament, but deep down in the core of them there was an inherent similarity. It was perhaps why Axolotl had chosen them both. “You are always welcome here in Dimension 52 or wherever I am. My home is your home.”

Bill grinned. “Well then, maybe I’ll just stick around until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think that will happen. Or at least, not for any appreciable length of time.” Since, in full honesty, there were times when Bill’s exuberance had her searching for a quiet place to herself for a few hours.

“I’ll take that challenge. In the meanwhile, since we’re all _mi casa es su casa_ you won’t mind if I do a little redecorating. You’ve got a whole lot of this cold grey stone in this place, and I know, you’ve got to work with what you’ve got, but I’ve always liked the marble and gold look myself,” Bill said and then snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened.

Bill frowned and rapidly snapped his fingers a few more times, still to no effect. He turned to Jheselbraum with a thunderous expression and demanded, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Jheselbraum said calmly. Bill had a bit of a temper, and rising to meet him in it or getting defensive only served to make things worse. “You know I don’t have the power to keep you from doing what you will.”

“Not in raw power, but you got the brains to think a way around it if you tried,” Bill said, but the edge of his anger was already fading.

“Maybe I do, but I didn’t,” Jheselbraum said. It occurred to her that if she hadn’t done anything then there one other being in all the multiverse who had the necessary power to do it instead, a being who had conveniently been to this dimension before. She picked up a polished wooden mixing bowl and handed it to Bill. “Try turning that into stone.”

Jheselbraum was watching him closely now and saw the way his power gathered around the bowl and then glanced off ineffectively. “Try changing just the grain in the wood slightly.” Still nothing. “Try changing the shape of the bowl some – make it a bit shallower and wider.” This time finally his power took hold, the bowl changing shape in the way Jheselbraum had suggested, though the overall amount of wood didn’t change. Finally she said, “Now try changing the wall again, but rather than turning the stone into gold, add gold leaf on top of the stone.” The results of this attempt were successful as well, if blindingly gaudy.

“What exactly is going on here?” said Bill.

“I don’t know about exactly yet, but I do have a working theory,” Jheselbraum said. “I don’t believe it’s a problem with your powers, hence your ability create the gold leaf and the sour cream a minute ago. However, the matter of this dimension is apparently resistant to having its fundamental nature changed. You’re able to push the matter around some, such as changing the shape of the bowl, but turning wood into stone changes what the bowl is, and I think that’s what’s impossible.”

“If you wanna get real technical – and normally I don’t – changing wood into stone is just pushing matter around, on a very small level,” Bill said.

“It’s a metaphysical problem, not a physics one,” said Jheselbraum.

“Alright miss smarty-pants, so why am I having this metaphysical problem? Because I promise you, nothing like this has ever happened to me before. And that’s not just my manly pride talking.”

“My best guess is it’s a side-effect from when Axolotl brought me here. It must have imbued this dimension with some of his power, though whether it was deliberate or unintentional I’m not sure,” said Jheselbraum. 

Bill nodded. “Okay, follow-up question: who the heck is Axolotl?”

“Axolotl is Axolotl,” Jheselbraum said, too surprised to offer a more informative answer. She gestured at the wall Bill had just changed where there was a relief of Axolotl now lovingly picked out in gold, thinking that perhaps Bill just wasn’t familiar with its name. 

“You mean that newt you’ve got pictures of all over the place is a real guy? I thought you just had weird decorating sense.”

“You must know who Axolotl is,” Jheselbraum insisted. “It’s the only being in the multiverse more powerful than you or I. It’s the one who gave us our power in the first place. I know you’ve been touched by Axolotl just as I have; I can see it on you.”

“Whoa, calm down. I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. I guess I knew I didn’t always have all this power and that it must have come from somewhere, but only in the same way I know I didn’t always know how to talk and I learned at some point; I don’t actually remember it, I just know it must have happened. If you say it was this Axolotl guy that gave me the powers, then I guess that explanation works for me.”

“But you don’t remember Axolotl,” Jheselbraum said, still not quite believing it. Yes, Bill was older than her, but Jheselbraum couldn’t imagine forgetting Axolotl, no matter how old she got.

“Nope,” Bill said blithely, and Jheselbraum reminded herself that she hadn’t been there when Bill and Axolotl met. It stood to reason that if Bill’s powers were different than her own, then he might have received them differently than she had. Perhaps Bill’s encounter with Axolotl had just been inherently less memorable than hers had been. “So you got a way to fix this problem or not?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Jheselbraum said. There was a chance of her out-thinking Bill’s greater power should she need to, but there’s was no way she’d be able to out-power or out-think Axolotl. “You’ll just have to work around it while you redecorate. Also while you’re doing it, please try to remember that I live here too.”

“Aw J, how could I forget?” Bill had taken to calling her that lately, despite her polite reminders that her name was Jheselbraum. She failed to see the purpose of nicknames – if she had wished to be called J, then she would have chosen that as a name for herself, not Jheselbraum – but she had eventually decided to accept it as a form of friendly affection from Bill, especially as her protests were falling on deaf ears anyway.

Bill snapped his fingers and in an instant the room was redone, everything covered in white stone and warm woods with golden accents everywhere. “What do you think?”

“I think the grand piano is a little much,” she noted dryly, staring at the room’s most obvious new addition.

“You’re right; it’ll be better in the parlor.” Bill waved his hand and the piano disappeared. She wasn’t sure where he’d sent it to – to her knowledge she didn’t have a parlor – but she supposed any room would be better than here. Besides, she didn’t mind the idea of having a piano, she just didn’t want one in the kitchen.

Bill looked at her expectantly once the piano was gone, and Jheselbraum took time to survey the new look. “It’s a bit overdone compared to my usual preferences,” she said slowly, “but the overall effect is rather elegant.” Her carvings of Axolotl in particular looked good in the new white and gold motif.

“I knew you’d love it. I’ll get started on the rest of the place.”

“Please leave my bedroom alone,” Jheselbraum said. “And my study.”

“You’re no fun, J,” Bill said, though he sounded like he was having a great deal of fun to her. “Pancakes for dinner again, yeah?”

“Yes. This time they will be perfect,” Jheselbraum said, though if force of conviction was enough to make it happen then it would have a long time ago.

“Hey, my money’s on you,” Bill said.

“Thank you. After you’re done with your remodeling, and once I finally finish with these blasted pancakes, I was thinking it might be nice if you might be willing to teach me how to fly.”

Bill grinned hugely at her. “It’s a date.”

After that the two of them fell into a routine together, or they would have if Bill didn’t have a deep loathing for anything vaguely resembling a routine. Still, they developed a certain rhythm with each other. They took turns teaching and learning powers that the other had mastered – Bill taught Jheselbraum to fly, and she taught him how to see the aura of another’s power; she taught him how to hear another language and not just translate it in his head, but to truly understand it as it was spoken, and he taught her how to conjure matter from thin air – though neither ever became naturals with the other’s talents. There was also time spent apart, each pursing their own interests. Finally there was the time they spent together with no real objective but to enjoy one another’s company, sharing stories of the people they’d met and the things they’d done and exploring every cave and glen on Jheselbraum’s mountain. Altogether things were much less peaceful than they had been before Bill arrived, but Jheselbraum thought they were more fun too.

Before Jheselbraum knew it, nearly two centuries had passed. It wasn’t that much time in the grand scheme of things, but it did mean she was past due for her next set of travelers. Even so, when a portal opened and a pair of travelers did appear on her mountain, it took her by surprise. 

“I might be hallucinating, but did a couple of people just pop into our backyard?” Bill asked. If Jheselbraum was surprised by the travelers, then Bill sounded like he flat-out didn’t believe that they were possible.

“I told you that I get travelers here on occasion,” Jheselbraum said.

“You told me that 200 years ago. I was starting to believe you made that up and only people with power like ours could get in here. I mean this place is a little off the beaten path, but I’d still expect more foot traffic than once every couple hundred years.”

“It’s usually closer to once a century,” Jheselbraum said. “What do you mean I’m ‘off the beaten path’? There’s no ‘beaten path’ between dimensions.” She knew how the multiverse was shaped, and while certain dimensions could be considered closer together than others at least in an abstract way, ultimately there was no such thing as space on that level of existence. There certainly weren’t roads.

Bill gave her an exasperated look. “I mean you’re not technically wrong, but jeez J, we got to get you out of this house more. After we deal with these guests.”

“What do you mean, deal with them?” That sounded more confrontational than Jheselbraum usually preferred to be with her guests.

“I mean deal with them. Relax I’m not going to scare them off; we get few enough visitors as it is, we don’t need these guys warning everyone they meet away. We can still show them some Dimension 52 hospitality, but let’s have a little fun while we do.”

“Why do I suspect this will end badly?” Jheselbraum said.

“It’s not going to end badly,” said Bill. “And even if it does, better to go down in a blaze of glory than sitting around doing nothing. You know I’m right.”

“I know nothing of the sort.” Jheselbraum sighed a little, then smiled at Bill. “Alright, let’s have your fun.”

“Perfect,” Bill said. He spun around in a quick circle, then threw his arms out wide as if to show off his new outfit, though in reality he hadn’t changed much. His suit was the same one he always wore, though the bow tie was now tied neatly instead of hanging open around his neck. He had also added a top hat, a cane topped with an eight ball, and an eye patch. “What do you think?”

“Very dapper,” Jheselbraum said. “What’s the purpose of the eyepatch?”

“Makes me look mysterious,” Bill said, flipping the patch from one eye to the other. He frowned, then flipped it back again, apparently unable to decide which eye he preferred to cover.

“Yes, but now you only have one eye. I can’t imagine how you function with two, much less one.”

“Hey, I only need one eye to take in the view, beautiful,” Bill said, raising his eyebrows suggestively at her and winking. At least, Jheselbraum assumed it was meant to be a wink; it was hard to be certain with the eyepatch in the way.

“You are incorrigible,” she said.

“That’s what you love best about me,” Bill replied, and Jheselbraum couldn’t find it in herself to disagree with him. “Now let’s go pick up some tourists.”

“Oh. I usually wait for them to get here on their own,” Jheselbraum said.

“Make them come to us. That’s a great plan.”

“Plan for what?” Jheselbraum asked. Bill still hadn’t clarified what exactly his idea of fun here was.

“Don’t worry about; I’ll take lead on this one,” he said. Then Bill vanished, only for the sound of piano music to pick up a few moments later, presumably to welcome and entice their guests. Jheselbraum laughed to herself, and decided to refrain from pointing out that it would be two days travel at the very least before their guests actually arrived.

In fact it was a full three and a half days until the travelers finally found their way up to the temple. Bill played the piano continuously the entire time in what he claimed – during one of his breaks in singing accompaniment – was an attempt to set a mood of mystery for the travelers, tempting them with faint strains of music on their way up. Jheselbraum had gotten very well-practiced at seeing when Bill was lying, however, and she was well aware that it was only a stubborn attempt not to admit that he hadn’t considered how much longer it would take to climb the mountain without being able to fly.

At Bill’s request, Jheselbraum had left the front door ajar and the two travelers, after receiving no response when they called from the doorway, entered and followed the music down the hall. She listened as their footsteps passed her by in the kitchen, then went around to the parlor from the other direction. Bill was still being evasive about what he had in mind, but he had told her that it would require her to make a grand entrance and that she would recognize her cue when she heard it.

So as to not undermine the grand entrance, Jheselbraum stopped just outside the parlor and continued to watch what was happening through the wall. The travelers warily slipped into the room, one after the other, their eyes locked on Bill sitting at the piano. The both of them had the same basic body structure as Jheselbraum and Bill – or at least the same as when Bill stuck to three dimensions for himself – but they were extremely delicate and spindly looking, the shorter of the two being six inches taller than Jheselbraum and looking as though he weighed half as much. Their facial structure was mostly the same as Bill’s though they were both bald as Jheselbraum and they had silvery skin that was very different from her own lilac or Bill’s peach tones.

As the two were entering the room, Bill’s music was building into a towering crescendo only to come to a stop so complete and abrupt that it caused the male traveler – the younger of the two, though not by a large margin – to jump in surprise. Bill spun around on the piano bench and grinned widely at the two. “Hello weary travelers. Hello and welcome to the home of the Oracle of Axolotl.”

Oh goodness. So that was what he was up to. Really, this wouldn’t be all that much different than how she usually interacted with guests. Her skill at future-sight was still very weak and vague and so far only centered on herself, so she had no prophecy to offer them, but she had always been willing to share knowledge, give advice, or answer questions. It might be slightly misleading to claim herself the Oracle of Axolotl, since she had no direct link to it and did not speak on its behalf, but as Axolotl was the one who gifted her with her powers in the first place, it wasn’t a completely inaccurate title either. Leave it to Bill to have fun by taking what they would have done anyway and dressing it up in the most absurd overdramatic way possible.

“An oracle? A real oracle? Oh Kirikuu, maybe the oracle can help us,” the taller of the two said to her companion in a soft clicking language.

“Oracles aren’t real, Laiki,” Kirikuu responded. “And I’ve never heard of this Axolotl god.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ve heard of him, just by a different name. And I promise you the oracle here is very real and she can help you, for a price,” Bill said. Jheselbraum frowned a little to herself.  She had never asked for payment before, and she had no plans of starting now, not even to facilitate Bill’s game.

Kirikuu scoffed, but Laiki silenced him with a hand on his shoulder before he could voice his protest. “We would pay anything to save my sister, but I’m afraid we don’t have much of value.”

Bill made a thoughtful sound. “If you’re lucky you may catch the Oracle in a good mood; she’s been known to give her help away for a song if the timing is right, but payment of some kind must be made.”

“We understand,” Laiki said. “Do you know if the Oracle is liable to be in a good mood if we were to ask her now?”

Jheselbraum thought that Bill likely had some specific cue he wanted to use to lead up to her entrance, but this moment seemed too dramatically perfect to let it pass by. She opened the door to the parlor and glided in the room, affixing an expression of utmost calm and tranquility on her face. “I believe that is a question best answered by myself,” she said. “Greetings Laiki, Kirikuu. Welcome to my home.”

Bill stood up from the piano bench and gave a sweeping bow gesturing in Jheselbraum’s direction. “May I present the Oracle of Axolotl, Jheselbraum the Unswerving.”

Jheselbraum inclined her head in acknowledgment and said, “I see you’ve both already met Bill of the All-Seeing Eye.” Bill shot her a sour look, but Jheselbraum just smiled serenely back at him before returning her attention to her two guests. “Now, tell me what it is you would seek my help with.”

“Yes, of course Oracle. It-“

“Laiki, stop. You shouldn’t tell this woman anything,” Kirikuu said.

“She’s going to help us. Don’t you want to take the planet back and rescue my sister – your intended?”

“Of course I do, but do you really think these two care about that? All they want is to trick us into giving them what little we have left in exchange for nothing of worth.”

“If that’s true so be it. It has been too long, we have traveled too far, and I am too desperate to turn away from this chance. If the only hope they have to offer is false hope I will gladly take it over the nothing we have been give so far.”

“Whoa, whoa there folks,” Bill said, making calming motions. “Why don’t we all just take a breath-“

“You stay out of this,” Kirikuu snapped. That wasn’t good. Bill’s temper flared hot and fast, something that Jheselbraum was well aware of from personal experience, and they didn’t need Bill getting involved in this argument too. She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to communicate nonverbally that it wasn’t worth getting upset over. Bill clearly wasn’t pleased, shrugging away from her touch and scowling, but he held his peace.

“That is enough,” Laiki said. “I have decided we are going to do this and that is the end of it.” Kirikuu looked as though he were going to protest again, but Laiki cut him off before he could get a word out. “Do not forget who you are talking to. You flirt with treason.”

Kirikuu’s lips thinned into an unforgiving line and he looked away. Laiki glared at him for a moment longer, then, once she was satisfied he would stay quiet, turned back to Jheselbraum and Bill and bowed deeply. “My apologies; we have not behaved in a manner befitting guests. My only explanation is that the stress and the travel has worn on us, though I know that is no excuse for how we have acted.”

“Please, put it from your mind. We weren’t offended, right Bill?” Bill shot her a sardonic look as though to say she knew very well he had been offended by being told off. Jheselbraum glared back to remind him that playing at Oracle had been his idea and he could hardly get worked up over the consequences, especially when they were so minor.

Bill let out a gusty sigh. “Yeah, yeah, apology accepted or whatever.”

“Now, please tell us your story,” Jheselbraum said.

Laiki nodded and began. She wove a tale full of political intrigue and treachery, treason and rebellion, and all out civil war, not to mention their fraught escape from captivity. Bill clearly found the tale exciting enough that he forgot within the first few minutes of listening to be upset – as quickly as his temper came on, it was easily distracted – though Jheselbraum found it hard to enjoy the tale with the constant thought of how hard it must have been to live through playing at the back of her mind. Finally the story concluded with Laiki and Kirikuu’s arrival in Dimension 52 and their trek up the mountain as they continued to search for help in their plight. “Do you think there is anything you can do for us, Oracle?”

“I hope so, though I will have to think on the matter overnight. For now, I have a meal prepared for us, and then we can show you to rooms where the two of you can get a safe night’s rest; it sounds as though you could use both,” Jheselbraum said.

“Indeed, they are sorely needed,” Laiki agreed. “Thank you.”

“What price?” suddenly asked Kirikuu, who had been silent since Laiki had told him off earlier. “Bill said you always charge a price, so what is it that you wish to take from us in exchange for your aid?”

“Kirikuu,” Laiki snapped.

“No, it’s a reasonable question, though I’m certain that Bill already told you what the price would be earlier,” Jheselbraum said. She turned to Laiki and smiled. “You will favor us with a song after you’ve rested, won’t you? I’m sure you have a lovely singing voice.”

The rest of the visit proceeded about as smoothly as the start of it had. Kirikuu remained suspicious even after Jheselbraum made it clear that she had no intention of stealing everything they had from them. His belligerent behavior in turn made Bill belligerent, and the two of them continued to snipe at each other, leaving it to Laiki and Jheselbraum to run interference whenever things looked to get too out of hand. Laiki typically accomplished that by getting into an argument with Kirikuu herself about his behavior and shutting him down. Jheselbraum took her normally calm and even-tempered attitude and magnified it, while occasionally calmly and even-temperedly pushing Bill’s buttons, splitting his anger between her and Kirikuu and thus blunting the edge of it.

In the end, after asking some more detailed questions about the people involved, Jheselbraum was able to point Laiki and Kirikuu in the direction of help and lay out a rough plan that they could adapt as the situation developed. That was enough to get Kirikuu to look grateful and a little impressed, while Laiki swept Jheselbraum up in a hug. “Thank you,” she said.

It seemed the perhaps Jheselbraum did have prophecy to offer them after all, for the moment Laiki touched her, a certain knowledge burst into Jheselbraum’s head. “Your sister is going to make an excellent ruler.”

Laiki beamed at her, brighter than any star. “Thank you so very much. Now all that remains is for us to get home so we can make that happen.”

Jheselbraum was not able to walk through dimensions the way that Bill was, much less send other people through them, but Dimension 52 did have portals that occurred naturally on occasion. It was not beyond Jheselbraum’s ability to read the power currents in the air to know when a portal would next form and where it would lead to, and since Bill had taught her more about the active use of her power, she could also nudge the currents, to encourage portals to open when she wanted them to and to influence where they would lead. She did such nudging now, then told her two guests, “There’s a portal opening in a few minutes that take you to a dimension that should be able to get you where you need to be.”

“Good! Is the portal opening here or…?”

“At the base of the mountain, actually,” Jheselbraum said, casting a look at Bill. Bill rolled his eyes, but snapped his fingers and Laiki and Kirikuu disappeared. Once they were gone, Bill stretched his arms out in front of him and declared, “Well, that was fun.”

“Fun? You and Kirikuu were at each other’s throats the entire time.”

“Yeah, and he still bought the Oracle story at the end anyway. I’m telling you J, there’s a sucker born every minute.”

“That speaks fairly highly of your general opinion of the people in the multiverse, if you think there’s only one sucker born every minute,” Jheselbraum said.

“You’re a pedantic jerk sometimes, you know that?” Bill said, though he sounded more amused than annoyed. “And another thing, ‘got it for a song’ is just an expression; you aren’t literally supposed to charge them a song,”

“I’m aware,” Jheselbraum said. “But they didn’t have anything to spare, or anything that I needed besides, so I thought I’d have fun with it.”

“It’s not about whether or not they have something you want. You’re performing a valuable service, and if you give them something valuable then they ought to give you something of equal value. More value if you can swing it,” Bill explained, making Jheselbraum feel as though he were lecturing a child who had misunderstood the rules to the game they were playing.

“Well I happen to think hearing Laiki sing was a valuable experience,” Jheselbraum said primly, before turning around and sweeping back inside toward her study.

“A valuable experience? Jeez J, what am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t see why you have to ‘do’ anything with me,” Jheselbraum said, an edge of irritation creeping into her voice.

“Don’t be like that,” Bill said, but Jheselbraum ignored him, sitting down at her desk and looking back over her work that had been interrupted when their guests had arrived. “J?” he said from the doorway. When she didn’t respond, he crossed the room and sat down on the edge of her desk. “J. J. C’mon Jheselbraum.” He poked here in the shoulder a few times, and when she continued to ignore him, he sighed. “I was definitely right in calling you unswerving.”

“Oh, so you didn’t give my name a spur-of-the-moment change on some whim?” she snapped. It had only bothered her a little bit at the time, but now Jheselbraum was annoyed with him and everything seemed more irritating than it ought to be.

“Course not; I’d been thinking about what the best Oracle title for you would be for the entire three days we were waiting for those two to get here. I mean, I’d have a pretty poor all-seeing eye if I didn’t foresee making up a name for you on the spot hacking you off.”

“You don’t have an all-seeing eye,” Jheselbraum pointed out.

“I didn’t before, yeah, but you said it, and they believed it, and belief is 90% of reality,” Bill said.

It was such a ridiculous claim, and so very Bill that Jheselbraum couldn’t help but to laugh a little. “And what about the remaining 10%?”

“Well I’m teaching you to do, you’re teaching me to see, and I figure the rest will get there in time,” he said. “You know, I really do think Jheselbraum the Unswerving is a good name for you. I mean you named me, I name you; that’s fair, right?”

‘It’s fair,” she agreed. “It’s a bit of a mouthful for everyday use though, so I’d still prefer to be called Jheselbraum.”

“Jheselbraum or J, right?”

Jheselbraum smiled at him. “Yes Bill, you can call me J.”

After that, Bill decided to hold her to his earlier comment about getting her out of the house more. In this case, house did not mean her temple, but the entirety of Dimension 52. It admittedly wasn’t something that Jheselbraum had much interest in doing, but Bill was so excited at the prospect of the two of them traveling the multiverse together, she couldn’t bring herself to say no – so much for being unswerving.

She did have a little time to get used to the idea at least. Bill was all for leaving right away with him in charge of transporting them both across the dimensional boundaries, but Jheselbraum insisted on learning his way of traveling first. It took a long while for her to master, especially in comparison to Bill who had taught himself to do it in a handful of hours, but that was the way things always seemed to go when it came to their separate abilities. Eventually she did get it down, and Bill’s grand tour of the multiverse would not be delayed any longer.

They traveled on a regular basis for the next handful of centuries, and Jheselbraum found herself enjoying it more than she anticipated. There was a difference between knowing something and experiencing it firsthand and the latter was not something she’d done much of in her life. After about a decade or so she even found herself willing to concede that Bill had been right about Dimension 52 being off the beaten path; Bill was insufferably smug for weeks. The multiverse was huge beyond comprehension with something new to be seen and discovered and explored around every corner, and she doubted a lifetime – even one of their lifetimes – would be enough to see it all.

That wasn’t to say it was all good or that they were constantly traveling; if anything they probably still spent more time in Dimension 52 than not. There was just so much going on in the other dimensions that after a while it began to press on her; everything was too loud and bright and present, and her peaceful mountaintop was the only place where she could calm and center herself. She tried explaining it to Bill a number of times, but she could see he never truly understood. He thought it was homesickness that brought them back every few years. That wasn’t an inaccurate assessment, but nor was it a complete one.

Around five centuries or maybe seven passed that way before Jheselbraum decided she was done with traveling. Maybe in another millennia or two she might be up for doing a little more if Bill insisted, but for the time being she had seen and done all she wanted to and the experience was no longer worth the stress it brought on. She was ready to get back to her old routine. They got into more than a few arguments over it, but this time Jheselbraum did hold unswerving and with a sour expression Bill finally agreed to stay put for a while.

Things went back to their old rhythm between the two of them, though there was an edge there now that there hadn’t been before. At first Jheselbraum thought that Bill needed some time to get used to the idea of not flitting about wherever he liked on a whim, but things only continued to get worse, not better. The two of them had always fought, sometimes loud and long, but now they were fighting more than they were getting along and Bill in particular occasionally picked up a vicious edge to his words.

The obvious solution occurred to Jheselbraum after a while, and she proceeded to ignore it. It was a solution, but it wasn’t one she cared for and so she held out hoping that a reason it wouldn’t work or a different more palatable solution would make itself known. Neither ever did though, and finally one day she turned to Bill and said, “I think you should go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Go. You need to leave Dimension 52,” she said. Her voice came out steady and even, with no outward sign of how much she hated her own words. Bill had named her unswerving, and so she would be.

“You’re kicking me out?” Bill said, and his voice wasn’t steady or even in the slightest. He sounded deeply and intimately wounded.

“Never,” she vowed. “I’m happy here in Dimension 52 and I don’t plan on leaving for a very long time and even then I don’t want to stay away for long. But you need to be out there in the multiverse, seeing new things and meeting new people and following whatever whim of the moment strikes you. You aren’t happy, and I want you to be.”

“What? I like it here with you,” Bill protested.

“I know you like it here, but you don’t like being stuck here,” she said.

Bill pressed his lips together but didn’t argue. “I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t,” Jheselbraum said. That wouldn’t solve anything, it would only make it so Jheselbraum was the miserable one. “Go, and go with the knowledge that whenever you’re ready to come back I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Bill didn’t say anything for several long minutes. Jheselbraum began to worry that he would try to fight her on this, try to claim that he was perfectly fine staying right here where he was at. She knew he needed to go, but if he tried to force the issue, she didn’t know that she could argue for him to leave her behind.

Finally Bill sighed. “You’re right J. You’re always right. What do you say, one last batch of pancakes before I hit the road?”

“Of course,” she said.

Jheselbraum cooked and they ate, both of them pretending like they couldn’t feel the tension in the air, like the thick silence between them was companionable and natural. It didn’t work. She only managed to finish half her plate, and while Bill ate all his she could tell he was forcing it.

Once Bill had finished he twirled his fork between his fingers then tossed it up in the air and let it flip around and around. Finally he sighed and snapped his fingers. The fork fell back down into his waiting hand and he set it down on the table. “Well. Okay then. See ya around.”

Jheselbraum smiled like her heart was breaking. “See you around.”

Millennia slipped by uncounted and largely unnoticed after Bill left, much the same as they had before he arrived. She missed him like she’d never missed any person before, liked she’d never missed her family or her people, but his absence didn’t define her. There were times when her temple felt too large and the air too still, but she refused to dwell on them, and they passed.

Really, it was hard to be lonely with all the people that came passing through; if anything, she was finding herself with too much company these days. Before Bill and his ridiculous showmanship, Jheselbraum could easily go a century or two without travelers in her dimension, and even then they might leave without ever coming to see her. Now it was rare for a decade to pass without someone showing up to ask a question of the Oracle, Jheselbraum the Unswerving. The only upside to becoming an Oracle, especially as it was rare that a question was asked that tried her powers at all anymore, was that she was apparently no longer bound to any code of hospitality, and could ask her guests to leave as soon as she liked.

One day a traveler appeared at the base of her mountain – she had yet to ever see a portal open at the top or even halfway up the mountain – with another mind attached to his own. Jheselbraum had met plenty of beings with telepathic bonds of some type or other and was now able to sense in an instant when such a bond was mutual and wanted, and when it was parasitic. The former she had no issues with, but the latter she always blocked immediately. She wouldn’t sever any bond without permission, but malevolent bonds grated against her skin when left alone. Jheselbraum went to do the same for this traveler, only to receive the first shock she’d had since Bill had first arrived at her doorstep.

Normally she allowed travelers to climb up her mountain in their own time – if anything they seemed to prefer it that way – but this man she grabbed and dragged up the mountain to stand before her. In her haste, she failed to be gentle enough and when he arrived he promptly passed out. That left Jheselbraum with an unconscious person with Bill’s body and Bill’s face and Bill’s mind telepathically latched onto his and, for the first time in a very long time, no idea what to do.

After a few long minutes of staring at the man, Jheselbraum acknowledged that he didn’t actually have the same body as the one Bill had used. It was the face that had confused her, for this face was hauntingly similar to Bill’s, but even that wasn’t exactly the same, and the bodies had several large differences. Most noticeably, this body was physically much younger than the one Bill assumed. Judging by human standards – reasonable, as this man was a human and in its three dimensional form Bill’s body could have been human – Bill had looked old enough to be this man’s father. Even so, there had to be some reason for their similarity.

Whatever the reason for it, if she was going to be able to uncover it by merely staring at the man as he slept, then she would have had it by now. Jheselbraum began feeding the smallest thread of power into the man, slowly drawing him awake. She would have preferred it done faster, but she had found that anything larger than the smallest thread tended to shock systems and be counterproductive.

Eventually the man’s eyes fluttered open, and he blearily took in his surroundings. “Where am I?”

“You are in my home in Dimension 52, and I am Jheselbraum the Unswerving,” she told him.

“You are? You mean I made it?” the man asked, his excitement enough to propel him off the ground and onto his feet.

“Whether or not you made it entirely depends on where you’re trying to get to. If you were looking for the Oracle of Axolotl, then yes, you made it,” Jheselbraum said. “Now, who are you and why are you seeking my help?”

“Oh, yes, right,” the man said before clearing his throat. “My name is Stanford Pines. Ford, if you prefer. And I’m here to ask you how I can destroy Bill Cipher once and for all.”

Everything changed.

Jheselbraum had heard of Bill Cipher before. Though her guests rarely spoke with her about anything beyond the concern that had brought them to her in the first place, when they did diverge from that topic, it was often for the purpose of telling stories of the tyrannical Bill Cipher. Jheselbraum hadn’t paid it much mind at first – the multiverse was full of tyrants and they came and went much too quickly for her to get worked up over any particular one. By the time she had been hearing about Bill Cipher long enough for him to seem like something she might need to look into, he had already gotten himself confined to the space between dimensions.  To her that indicated one of two possibilities. The first was that stories about Bill Cipher and the things he had done were as grossly over-exaggerated as Jheselbraum first assumed, and Bill Cipher was long-lived, but didn’t have the power to even walk through dimensions without some sort of external aid. The other was that Bill had heard about Bill Cipher before Jheselbraum had and had used his powers to lock Bill Cipher away were he could do a minimum of trouble. In either case, Bill Cipher wasn’t someone she needed to worry about.

Jheselbraum hadn’t been in denial over Bill and Bill Cipher’s possible connection. To be in denial, one had to acknowledge something was possible, and it had never once crossed her mind that the two might be the same person. Bill was loud and abrasive and his sense of empathy had been worn down by countless eons of living, but he wasn’t evil. She had come across him doing dozens, if not hundreds of slightly questionable things over their time together just for the fun of it, the most recent being when he’d tried to overthrow the caste system in the flat dimension next to hers. Still, upsetting an unjust caste system was miles apart from razing dimensions down to ash. She couldn’t believe Bill was capable of such a thing.

On the other hand, she wouldn’t have believed Bill capable of creating a permanent parasitical attachment to someone else’s mindscape, yet she could see the bond clearly before her now, and she had felt Bill’s mind when she shielded Ford from the telepathic influence. If Bill was capable of that, if he was capable of taking the name Jheselbraum had granted him at his own request and perverting it, then what else was he capable of?

Jheselbraum had asked Bill once why he had chosen to leave his home dimension. It was a question asked in idle curiosity, nothing more; Jheselbraum was not a traveler by nature, and while she knew others felt an inherent drive to explore, she always had a hard time understanding it. Bill had flashed her a cocky grin and told her that his dimension had been boring and he had “thrown a show-stopping party and when that was done, he literally stopped the show, permanently.” Jheselbraum had seen he was lying, but she hadn’t pushed, thinking he would tell her the truth in his own time. Now she wondered if that had been a lie at all. If she had ever seen Bill truly.

Ford must have taken her moment of shock as contemplation over his question because as soon as her focus retreated from its inward paths and returned to him, he asked, “Can you help me?”

“I do not know how to defeat Bill Cipher,” she said. He was so much older and more powerful than her, ending him was far beyond her abilities, and when she looked to see how it might be done there was nothing but endless blue and pink. Still, Ford stood before her now wearing Bill Cipher’s face, with Bill Cipher’s mind in his, and by his mere presence had shown her the depth of Bill Cipher’s treachery. Jheselbraum did not need future-sight to read the destiny in that. “What I do know is that you have the face of the one who will do so, and I shall do what lies within my power to help. Now come, sit down and tell me how you came to have Bill Cipher in your mind.”

If there had been any doubt left in her that Bill was Bill Cipher, it was quelled by Ford’s story. As he described actions that undoubtedly suited the Bill Cipher she’d heard stories about, Jheselbraum could see the shape of Bill in them as well. Even the triangle form that he now appeared to prefer over his old one retained echoes of the suit he used to wear. In the end this surety served to strengthen her resolve. Bill Cipher must be stopped, and Bill and any affection she had for him must be put out of her mind.

“The first thing that must be done if you wish to face Bill Cipher again is to protect your mind from his.” Jheselbraum said once Ford had concluded his story.

“Can you do that?” Ford asked.

“I’m not certain,” Jheselbraum began. She had sundered many telepathic bonds with barely a thought, but this bond was created by Bill Cipher, and if he brought the full-weight of his power to stop the severing, then Jheselbraum didn’t know that she would be successful. However, even as she expressed her doubts, the knowledge of how to break Bill Cipher’s hold on Ford’s mind formed in her head. It was a method that relied not on her own power, but on certain physical laws of Dimension 52. “Yes. Yes I can do it, but it will require placing a metal plate in your head.”

“You want to perform brain surgery on me? You’re sure you know how to do that?” Ford asked.

“Head surgery would be a more accurate way to put it. It’s a difficult surgery, but yes, I’m sure I know how to do it.” She knew most everything that existed on such a mundane level. That wasn’t to say she’d ever preformed any surgery before, but she had also never built even a small shelter before she’d built her temple and now it had stood longer than some universes had existed.

Ford took a deep breath in, then said, “Alright, do it.”

“You’re getting ahead of me,” Jheselbraum said with a small smile. “I don’t keep metal plates to put inside people’s heads on hand, and there’s a few other things I’ll need to prepare as well. For now, eat, rest, and we can begin in the morning.”

The surgery the following morning was messy – which she had known to expect, but knowing something was never quite the same as experiencing it – but successful. The instant she secured the plate to Ford’s skull she felt the bond to Bill Cipher snap, and she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. It had worked, and she did not believe that Bill Cipher was aware that she was the one behind it.

It took Ford a week to recover from the surgery, during which time the two of them had a number of long talks about Bill Cipher and what he was capable of and how best to stop him. Through their conversations, Jheselbraum never once mentioned how she’d come to know Bill Cipher or anything about the time he’d spent in Dimension 52.  She knew that she wasn’t the only one Bill Cipher had tricked, that even Ford himself had been used, but Jheselbraum had thought she and Bill had shared a bond, being the only two to have been touched by Axolotl, and it made his betrayal of her that much more personal. Besides, her foolishness was her own, and she had no wish to share it.

Finally came the day when Ford was well enough to continue his journey and had all the information on Bill Cipher she could give him. The two of them said their goodbyes, and Jheselbraum moved Ford to a nearby dimension where the people tended to be friendly, and they had knew a lot about how normal beings traveled the multiverse that they could share with him. She tried to be gentle with him this time, but he still passed out on arrival. Fortunately there were people near where he landed and they rushed over to help him, so Jheselbraum decided he would be fine.

It wasn’t until some days after Ford left that a worrisome thought occurred to Jheselbraum. In all of the multiverse, there was only one Axolotl; that much she remembered from when she had been gifted with her sight. As there was only one Axolotl, it followed that there was only one Jheselbraum and only one Bill Cipher. However, despite the destiny that hung on him, Stanford Pines was just an ordinary person, and where there was one ordinary person in the multiverse there were millions more who were all but identical. If Bill Cipher tricked one Ford in an attempt to escape his prison, then Jheselbraum could see no reason why he wouldn’t trick two Fords, or three, or four, or a hundred.

Jheselbraum stretched her mind across the multiverse, and she saw them. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of Fords, all with Bill Cipher’s mind latched onto theirs. She was certain that Ford had a part to play in all this, but she didn’t know which Ford it would be, or if it would indeed be only one of them. It was a daunting prospect, but she could see no other recourse than to go one by one and protect all of them.

The project became no less overwhelming once she was in the midst of it than it had been before she had begun. While it was easy to cast her vision wide and see all the Fords out there, it took time and effort to track down any one specific Ford from the multitude. Once whichever one she selected had arrived, inevitably fainted, and been revived – despite her attempts at gentleness, it seemed Ford simply didn’t have the constitution to stay conscious after being dragged across the multiverse – he often required rest and recovery before she could even begin to give him the necessary surgery – Ford also seemed to lack the ability to look after himself properly. Then after the surgery was completed and Ford’s mind protected, he required more rest and recovery before she could send him on his way again – she took to doing so at night while he was sleeping, on the grounds that he couldn’t faint again if he was already unconscious. Then she started the procedure all over again.

There were two things that helped to keep Jheselbraum going through this monotonous task. The first was Ford himself. She had been worried originally that conversations with him would quickly become repetitive, and at times they were. Still, there was something bright about him, a curiosity and enthusiasm that endeared him to her. For all the people she’d met in her time, there were few that she would truly name friend, but Ford – in all his incarnations – slowly became one of them.

The other was something that happened after Jheselbraum brought the thirteenth Ford into Dimension 52. This Ford is made of slightly sterner stuff than the rest of them, and he remains conscious for just a few seconds before fainting. Not long, but long enough for him to see Jheselbraum, long enough for Bill Cipher to see her through Ford’s eyes before she shielded their connection. Bill Cipher’s reaction was immediate, red hot rage thundering across the dreamscape. It was strong enough that if Jheselbraum was less than she was, then she would have passed out and been immediately ensnared. As it was, she swayed a bit on her feet, but stayed conscious. Even so, she could still hear Bill Cipher’s words echo in the back of her head, screaming that Ford was his.

Jheselbraum knew that voice, she knew that unrestrained rage. Not from her time with Bill, but from far back in her own distant past. She heard that echo in her head and knew that right now back in the dimension that she’d come from so long ago, there was a girl, no longer a child, but still young yet, having a nightmare. This finally was the truth of where she’d come from, the answer to the question she’d never realized was lurking in the back of her mind. Axolotl had come to her and made her into what she was to protect her from Bill Cipher, and now it was her solemn responsibility to protect others from Bill Cipher in turn. She would do it, even if it meant saving a million Fords.

Jheselbraum spent over 25 years on her project and met over 500 different versions of Ford. Over time her actions became easy and methodical and while the conversations never quite became rote, they drew close to it. She was still fond of Ford and was kept each of them separate in her mind, but sometime after the first 300, it seemed there was nothing any of them could say to her that another one hadn’t already said before. Still, she went on.

Then one day quite suddenly she pulled a new Ford into her home and knew instantly that he would be the last. She had caught him in the same flat dimension where she’d last seen Bill Cipher, though she thought that was more likely a coincidence than not. What made Jheselbraum so certain was far more unmistakable than that; this Ford had originally come from the very same dimension as Bill Cipher. It hadn’t occurred to her before to look for such a thing because she believed Bill Cipher’s home dimension to be destroyed. Most likely it had been when Bill Cipher had left it, but before he had been trapped in his Nightmare Realm he had slipped through time as easily as he had between dimensions. Perhaps Bill Cipher had destroyed his home when he left it, but clearly here and now that hadn’t happened yet.

Jheselbraum lifted Ford up from where he’d fainted onto the floor and carried him over to the bed she’d set aside specifically for him. The third Ford to visit her here had had a particularly persistent illness when he’d arrived and in the month it took for him to be well enough for his surgery he had helped her perfect the firmness of the mattress and the softness of the pillows and everything else needed to make the ideal bed for Ford. She began tending the wounds Ford had received from the flatlanders and for the first time in a long while Jheselbraum looked, really looked, at her guest.

Fundamentally he was the same as all the other Fords she had met: intellectual, curious, reckless with a thirst to prove himself. Then there were a myriad of little details none of which were completely unique in themselves, but all of which came together to create a Ford that was just slightly different than any of the others albeit in the exact same way that all of them were different. His physical appearance was also more or less identical to every other Ford, but she noticed something now that she hadn’t before.

It had been a long time since the day Jheselbraum had met the first Ford that had come wandering into her dimension. Not that long for her, but long for a human and this Ford before her now actually looked very different than that Ford had then. Age had changed him until he looked almost identical to how Bill used to when he’d lived here with her. She drew the blankets up to cover Ford’s cleft chin and she could no longer see any difference between the two of them. Ford’s hair was a bit fluffier, maybe, but it would pass all but the most thorough inspection.

So here was Ford of Dimension 46’\ the exact Ford she had been looking for, even if she hadn’t known it at the time, wearing Bill’s exact face and at almost the exact physical age that Bill’s body had been. It wouldn’t be long now, a few years at most.

Jheselbraum surprised herself with the twinge of pain that went through her at that thought. Her anger at Bill Cipher had long since burned out, but she had been carrying herself through just fine on her resolve to see him ended and the sure knowledge that the path she had chosen was the right one. Despite that, it seemed that she wasn’t as resigned to Bill’s death as she might have hoped. Ah. Well. Bill had named her unswerving, and so she would be.

It took some time to heal Ford up to the standards necessary for her to be able to perform surgery on him. In addition to the normal lack of self-care, the flatlanders had done a lot of damage and re-growing neurons and getting all the connections perfectly realigned was the work of gentle coaxing. Healing it, Jheselbraum felt ashamed that she hadn’t found Ford sooner; after all he had been in the dimension next door, more or less, when it happened.

When Ford was ready to wake up, Jheselbraum sat down in a chair at his bedside and sent the smallest thread of power into him until his eyes fluttered open. “Where am I?”

“You are in my home in Dimension 52, and I am Jheselbraum the Unswerving,” she told him. This pronouncement was met with a confused stare, from which Jheselbraum gathered that this Ford had not heard of her before.

Ford shook his head. “Last thing I remember I was in a 2-D dimension…”

“That was a while ago,” Jheselbraum said. “I brought you here and have been tending to your injuries while you’ve been unconscious.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Ford said, clearly still disoriented. “And who are you again?”

“My name is Jheselbraum the Unswerving, or you may simply call me Jheselbraum. As to who I am, that is a very broad question. For now suffice to say that I am an oracle and someone who wishes to help you on your quest to defeat Bill Cipher.”

“You know about my mission?” Ford asked.

“And a great deal more besides, Stanford Pines,” Jheselbraum said, amused. “But you’ve only just woken up; talk of Bill Cipher can wait until after you’ve gotten some solid food in your stomach.”

“Food,” Ford echoed, sounding as though he had forgotten that such a thing existed. Though, knowing Ford, she would hardly be surprised. “Food, yes. That would be very much appreciated, thank you. You do have food that’s safe for me to eat, I assume?”

“Of course,” Jheselbraum said. She was struck by a sudden whim and before she could think it through she asked, “How do pancakes sound?”

“Pancakes as in pancakes?” Ford said, holding his hands up to form a circle in front of him.

“Yes, pancakes as in pancakes,” Jheselbraum said. “Have you had them before? I believe they’re native to your culture.”

“Yes, of course. Pancakes. I haven’t had pancakes since… since I was seventeen. Ma used to make them for us when we were little, for holidays and birthdays and good grades, whenever there was something to celebrate. I remember she made them the morning of the science fair, and then... Well, after that she didn’t feel like celebrating anything for a long time. Then I went off to college and pancakes never really seemed right, not without…” Ford trailed off staring into the distance at nothing. Before Jheselbraum could offer to make something else instead, he shook his head and smiled at her tightly. “Pancakes would be wonderful, thank you.”

Ford insisted on accompanying Jheselbraum to the kitchen despite her recommendation he get some rest, but that was hardly surprising. She kept a stream of inconsequential chatter up as she cooked, knowing full well if she didn’t Ford would try to turn the conversation to Bill Cipher. As it was, he seemed to keep only a third of his attention on the conversation, leaving another third to obsess over Bill Cipher. The remaining third was devoted to what Jheselbraum was sure was a running mental commentary of skepticism of the ingredients in her pancake recipe. Jheselbraum would have the last laugh on that front, however. When she put the finished plate in front of him, Ford’s first bite was hesitant, but once he’d gotten a taste, he lit up and began digging in with a fervor that she’d never seen him direct at food before.

“Those were delicious,” Ford said as he pushed the now empty plate away from him. “A lot like Ma’s actually, though if I’m honest yours are probably better.”

Jheselbraum smiled. “I’m pleased. The secret is the sour cream. Or sour cream substitutes as the case may be.”

“Sour cream, really?” Ford said. “Well I have to keep that in mind. If I’m ever in the position to make pancakes in the future, that is.”

“You will be,” Jheselbraum said with utter surety. She could see him now, sitting with another stack of pancakes in front of him out on a boat somewhere with the feelings of warmth and comfort and family and love so pervading they were almost tangible. She allowed herself a moment longer to linger on the image before moving on. “Now to the matter at hand.”

Ford’s expression turned grim. “Bill Cipher.”

The conversations she had with Ford while he was recovering from surgery were no different than any she’d had hundreds of times before, but she was completely focused on them for the first time since the very first time. Jheselbraum was intensely aware of each moment that passed bringing her one step closer to the end of Ford’s visit, the end of her self-imposed mission, the end of Bill. Never had a week seemed so short.

If that week was short, then the years that followed were impossibly long. They stretched with anticipation tighter than a drum until the day that finally, finally the moment Jheselbraum was waiting for came. It was like shockwaves of power rolling through the multiverse, but inverted so that where there had once been motion now there was only stillness. Bill Cipher was dead.

It hurt. It hurt so badly that for a moment she could barely breathe. She hadn’t known it until just then, but even through his long absence, through his betrayal, through her own decision to see him ended, there had been a part of Jheselbraum that was still waiting for Bill to come home. Now he never would. And it hurt.

Years passed, not so many as all that, but enough for acceptance of what was and what would never be to settle over Jheselbraum. The loss would stay with her forever, she was sure, but the grief wouldn’t. Her stone hallways that had seemed so empty with Bill’s passing – never mind the eons it had been since he graced them – never grew any fuller, but with time Jheselbraum remembered that she liked the peace and quiet. It was enough.

One day a call came, skimming across the dimensions until it found its way to her, twisting through the corridors of her temple and shattering the still within. In spite of that, Jheselbraum found herself smiling.

This was not the first time she’d received such a call, though even since the myriad of millennia she’d been here, their number remained under a thousand. As word spread of the Oracle who saw all past, present, and future – an exaggeration, but she was hardly responsible for the gossip people spread; if anything, she blamed Bill for it – so too did it spread of her isolated dimension with its isolated mountain with her isolated dwelling on top. It had been decided, without her having any particular say in the matter, that making the journey to her was necessary in order for someone to prove they worthy of receiving the knowledge they sought. In fact, Jheselbraum suspected that at least a third of the people who came to her were actually more interested in the proving themselves part than they were in the answers to any of their questions. Even so, some did get desperate enough to try calling to her, despite not believing it would work. Often she was tempted to just ignore it, but then she would be reminded of dreams of red skies and a glowing black eye, and she would give a closer listen. The desperately curious she ignored as she wished to, but she did try to give aid to those who called to her and were truly in need.

With this call, however, there was no need to listen closer. From the very first note, she knew exactly what dimension the call came from and who was calling her, so she felt no need to question why he wanted her attention. For the first time, Jheselbraum was being called by a friend.

Despite what the names of them might suggest, Dimension 46’\ was a good distance from Dimension 52, in so much as there was distance between different dimensions, so it took four whole steps before Jheselbraum found herself standing in a clearing in a pine forest directly in front of Stanford Pines.

Seeing Ford again was almost as surprising as it had been the first time. He had the look of Bill still, but Jheselbraum had been expecting that. Somewhere in the back of her mind though, she had forgotten how quickly humans aged – slower than the average of all living being across all dimensions, but much quicker than most of the species intelligent enough to travel the multiverse and seek Jheselbraum out. The familiar features were much frailer than she had been expecting, and lined with wrinkles she had never seen on them before. A father this time, rather than a son.

She adjusted to the shock quickly, letting not an ounce of it color her expression. “Hello Ford. So nice to see you again.”

Ford lowered the device he’d used to call to her – it was shaped like a conch shell and appeared to be played similarly, though its insides were obviously much more sophisticated than anything that might wash up on a beach – and grinned. Despite his age, his grin still held the same boyish delight she was so accustomed to, in both of them. “Jheselbraum! I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Of course I came. I know you wouldn’t call me unless you needed me, and I do always try to help when those in need call,” she said.

“And if I didn’t need anything?” Ford said, though his question was clearly a matter of curiosity rather than any sort of tacit admission that he’d called to her on a whim.

Jheselbraum favored him with a fond smile. “In that case I’d be pleased to pass some time with a friend. I’m sure there’s a lot you have to catch me up on.” Mortal lives passed so quickly and as a consequence they stuffed as much as they were able to in their short years. It hadn't even been twenty since she’d seen him last, but Jheselbraum was sure that Ford was full to bursting with stories to tell.

“How much time do you have?” Ford joked. “Of course, knowing you, you probably know about most of it already, but knowing isn’t the same thing as having a first-hand account of it. At the very least I’m sure you’ll want to hear the story of how Bill Cipher was defeated once and for all, though that’s really Stan’s story to tell. Have I mentioned my brother Stan before?”

“I’ve heard more than a few things about Stanley,” she answered. None from this Ford, but others of him had spoken of their brother in passing, never in a flattering way. “The two of you have made up, I take it?”

“Yes, not long after I got back to my home dimension here. That actually ties back into the story about vanquishing Bill Cipher, which in turns ties back to why I called you here in the first place. I’m afraid you were right about us being in need,” Ford said.

“I thought so. Perhaps we ought to fetch Stan?”

“Of course, he’s just inside with the kids; we didn’t know how long it would take you to get here, if you did come.” Ford said, gesturing at the building behind her. “Stan! Jheselbraum is here!”

“What, already?” called back a voice from inside the house. It was a voice Jheselbraum knew deep down in her bones, though she tried to tell herself that the tones were just slightly different than Bill’s. Even if it was the same voice, that hardly meant anything, or at least not anything more than Ford having the same face as Bill. Indeed, given Ford’s comment that the defeat of Bill was Stan’s story to tell, it made sense that Stan might take after Bill in a way as his brother did; it was merely another facet of the same sort of destiny. Footsteps pounded against the wooden floor of the house, drawing closer with each moment, and the door swung open.

Everything changed.

To be honest, Jheselbraum wasn’t even surprised. Even now there was a part of her that was still waiting for Bill, so she wasn’t in the least surprised to see him standing there in the doorway, looking identical to how he had when Jheselbraum had first granted him the name. His true name to replace the lesser names that had come before it just as Jheselbraum had replaced the names she’d held as a child, or at least so she’d thought at the time. But it took only a glance at him now to see what had been hidden from her before. This is where Bill – Stan truly belonged.

Jheselbraum did not have more than a moment or two to consider this, because following closely in Stan’s wake was small herd of children, five of them at least, who all wanted to exclaim over their new visitor. Jheselbraum chose to indulge the children in their curiosity, not only because of the fond looks Stan and Ford had for them, but because it gave her a little time to regain her equilibrium. Bill had already been lost to her, she reminded herself as she fielded the children’s questions, that he was lost to her in another, different way than she had realized didn’t make him any more or less lost.

“Alright you gremlins, break it up. The grown-ups need to talk now,” Stan said after a few minutes.

“But abuelo…” said the oldest child, a whine echoed by the rest of them. Stan crossed his arms and gave them an indulgent sort of disapproving look that Jheselbraum thought for a moment she recognized as the one she had often given to Bill before reminding herself that couldn’t be, as Stan had never met her before. The children recognized that in spite of the indulgence, Stan’s look was not to be argued with, and the lot of them ran off to play some game over by the tree line. That left just Jheselbraum, Stan and Ford standing there together.

“Stan, this is Jheselbraum the Unswerving, the Oracle from Dimension 52. Jheselbraum, this is my brother Stanley,” Ford said, belatedly introducing the two of them.

“Nice to meet you… Jesalbroom? You mind if I call you J?”

“No, I don’t mind,” Jheselbraum said. “Ford, you didn’t mention Stan was your twin brother.”

“Oh, well he is. Is that important?” Ford asked.

“What do you mean, is that important?” Stan said.

“Not like that, Stanley, I was only trying to ask if it was important for me to tell her, that is, is there a reason she needed to know. I’m sorry,” Ford said, directing the latter comment toward Jheselbraum. “My brother has been a little sensitive to the twin thing ever since we stopped looking so much alike. Though, speaking of, how did you know by looking at us we were twins if you didn’t know already?”

“The both of you still look alike to me. I see many things that others don’t.” Though never enough when it came to Bill. Some of the blame for that perhaps lay in the way his power could block hers, preventing her from seeing anything she didn’t specifically look for. Not looking, however, was entirely her own failure. “In answer to your earlier question, it does matter, but I don’t know that it would have made a difference if you had told me.”

“Well that ain’t cryptic,” Stan muttered sarcastically.

“I have it from a reliable source that being cryptic is what I’m best at,” Jheselbraum replied. “Now perhaps you ought to tell me what it is you called me here for.”

“Yes, of course,” Ford said. “Like I mentioned earlier, it really ties back into how Bill Cipher was eventually defeated. Stan, you want to take this one? And try not to embellish too much.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’m assuming Ford already told you about how he ended up falling into the portal, so I’ll pick up with where I finally managed to get it working again and brought Sixer here home.”

Stan was an animated storyteller, hardly a surprise, and as he spoke Jheselbraum could see the scenes playing out before her eyes. Granted, that was well within her capabilities no matter the skill of the one telling the story, but Stan made it effortless. Soon she was caught up in the ebb and flow of the story, not even truly hearing Stan’s words, just letting them wash over her as a guide to her visions. She saw how Bill Cipher manipulated and lied and tricked his way into this dimension, saw the ruin he made of it, saw the desperate plan to defeat him come together and fail. Then the new plan, and Jheselbraum tried to cry out a warning – she didn’t know what would happen if Bill Cipher were to attempt to inhabit the same space as his younger self, but she didn’t think any good could come of it – but the words stuck fast in her throat. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; these images were since past, and she had no power to change what had already been done. So she watched helplessly as Bill Cipher entered into Stan’s mind and she saw, as Stan hadn’t, the way Bill Cipher dug down deep into Stan’s being and nearly fused them into one. She saw the way Stan’s mind pulled from Bill Cipher to create a wall of his own blue flames, trapping Bill Cipher in the center of Stan’s mind. She saw Bill Cipher glitch and flicker out into nothing. Then, for only and instant before Stan’s words forced the story past it, she saw Axolotl pulling Stan and Bill Cipher apart and carefully cradling them both in his hands.

 “After that my memories started coming back pretty quickly, probably about a week or two to get all of them. And that’s pretty much the end of it,” Stan concluded.

“Or at least we had hoped that would be the end of it,” Ford said. “But it’s become increasingly apparent over the past few years that Stan isn’t ageing anymore, and likely hasn’t been since that day. Which brings up the question, or rather led to the concern that possibly Stan is… that is to say-“

“What Poindexter here is trying to say is he thinks that when we erased Bill, we didn’t erase him all the way, and he’s still up in my head somewhere. Something that Ford has apparently been thinking since it first happened, but didn’t see fit to bring up until this ageing problem started,” Stan said, giving his brother a warning sort of glare.

“Not the whole time,” Ford objected. “I only thought that for maybe a month or two initially, and then dismissed it as unlikely until just recently. And I’ve already told you a million times, I didn’t say anything because I had no proof, just a logical inference on a situation that I clearly hadn’t understood in its entirety with zero evidence to back it up. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”

“And I’ve told you that if you’re worried then me being worried is necessary. Unless neither of us should be worried, in which case you need to tell me about it so I can tell you to stop being an idiot.

“Perhaps I can resolve this issue? I do believe it’s what you called me here to do,” Jheselbraum said. She walked over to Stan and held her hands out to him. “May I?”

“Uh, sure,” Stan said, clearly somewhat uncertain what it was he was granting her permission to do. Still it was agreement enough for Jheselbraum, so she grabbed onto his upper arms and for a few seconds pressed their foreheads together.

Once she had all she needed, Jheselbraum stepped back, and took a few moments more to consider her words carefully. She didn’t believe the truth in its entirety would be wise just now, but she owed these two better than to lie to them. Finally she said, “Stan’s mind is wholly his own and there is no presence lingering in any dark corners where it doesn’t belong.”

“That’s a relief,” Ford said. “None of my tests had been turning up anything in his head either, but I kept getting readings that were very similar in form to the power readings I got off of Bill, if significantly smaller. Still, you know Bill better than anyone, so if you’re sure he’s gone, then I’m sure he is too. You are sure, right?”

“As I said, I am confident there is no one in Stan’s mind but himself,” said Jheselbraum.

“See Ford, told ya. Bill’s not in here, he just left all his power behind,” Stan said. “I’m going to be young and beautiful forever. Hey, how much harder do you think I can punch now?”

“Bill Cipher didn’t leave all his power behind,” Jheselbraum corrected. “Yes, what’s in you now comes from the same source as his, but if he’d left his power in you, you certainly would have noticed it before now; Bill was far more powerful than you could possibly imagine.”

“I think we have an inkling,” Ford commented dryly.

“You don’t really.” Jheselbraum said. “By the time you met Bill Cipher the majority of his power had been locked down inside himself. He certainly wouldn’t have needed help escaping the Nightmare Realm or this town’s barrier if he had access to all his power.”

“Locked down how? Are you saying there’s someone else out there with even more power than Bill had that could do something like that to him? Because I don’t like the thought of anyone with that much power, except maybe me,” Stan said.

“Stanley you go power mad when you get control over the TV remote,” Ford said.

“Yeah, so imagine how bad it would be if someone I didn’t know had as much power as J here is talking about. And besides, if there is someone with the power to lock Bill up, why didn’t they finish the job while they were at it?”

“Because they couldn’t,” Jheselbraum said.

“Sure they could. End of the day, Bill wasn’t that tough.”

“No, you misunderstand. No one else could have defeated Bill Cipher because you were always going to be the one to do it,” Jheselbraum told him.

“The face of the man destined to destroy Bill,” Ford said, echoing what Jheselbraum had told him years ago. “And my face is your face, which means you were the one destined to do it all along, Stan.”

“Pah, ‘destined to.’ I don’t believe in all that destiny junk; I was just in the right place at the right time and was willing to do what needed to be done,” Stan said.

“And if someone knew that you’d be in the right place in the right time and be willing to do what needed to be done, how is that different from destiny? All destiny really is, is looking at the timeline from a different point of view,” said Jheselbraum.

“Alright, you’ve officially stopped making sense,” Stan said.

 “Just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense,” Jheselbraum pointed out.

“And now you’re starting to sound like Ford,” Stan said, and his tone was such a familiar mix of annoyance and resignation that Jheselbraum couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ve heard as much before,” she said.

“Someone’s told you that you sound like me before?” Ford asked, confused.

“Not as such. I only meant the general feeling Stan was trying to get across was a familiar one,” explained Jheselbraum.

“What, you have a brother that you like to annoy the heck out of too?” Stan asked.

“Hey! Takes one to know one,” Ford objected, cuffing Stan in the back of the head, but there was good-natured laughter in the lines of both their expressions.

“No, I don’t have a brother. At least not in the way you mean,” Jheselbraum answered. “But I do have someone you might call my mirror image. He’s the same as I am, while still encompassing everything I’m not.  And I would say we both annoyed each other equally.”

“Yep, same story, different dimension,” Stan said.

“I suppose you could say that,” Jheselbraum agreed, her expression turning wan.

“I didn’t meet him when I visited Dimension 52.  Or at least not that I recall; I suppose I was unconscious for most of my visit there,” Ford said.

“No, he left Dimension 52 a very long time before you ever arrived, and he won’t be coming back again,” Jheselbraum said. At least, not from her perspective.

“And on that note, I’m going to get the heck out of here before things get even more depressing and uncomfortably familiar,” Stan said.

“Wait, before you go,” Ford said, placing a hand on Stan’s arm to keep him from leaving. “Jheselbraum, is there a way to remove this residual power in Stan? I know you’ve been having a bit of fun with the whole thing Stan, but I really don’t like the idea of anything of Bill’s lingering around, even if it’s not his mind. Besides, forever is a long time to be anything, even ‘young and beautiful.’”

Jheselbraum shook her head. “That’s beyond my abilities.” It would be even if it wouldn’t have needed to rip apart time and causality as she knew it to make it so. “The only one who could possibly remove the power from Stan now is the one who granted it in the first place.”

“Well, since I sucker punched Bill right out of existence, I guess that plan’s out,” Stan said. Jheselbraum considered correcting him for a moment before discarding the notion. It was possible that Bill hadn’t known about Axolotl because Stan was going to forget in the intervening years, but she thought it more likely that he had never known in the first place. “I’ll just have to get used to having amazing powers. You think if I tried walking off the roof I could walk on air like Bill did?”

“Stanley, don’t-“

“Bill didn’t walk on air, not exactly,” Jheselbraum said. “You will be able to float, if you work at it. Flying’s easy, if you have the power for it.” Stan didn’t have that power yet, but she suspected he would soon. Bill had said that flying was one of the first things he learned to do.

“Well, now I know what I’m doing this afternoon,” Stan said. “Nice meeting ya, J.”

“It was good seeing you as well. Please know that you are always welcome in Dimension 52; you need only ask.” She smiled softly at him. “I’ll even make you pancakes.”

Stan gave her an odd look, as if he were skeptical of her ability to make pancakes, as if he didn’t know why she would be offering to make him pancakes, as if he didn’t even understand why pancakes were important in the first place. Because, of course he didn’t.

“Jheselbraum actually makes very good pancakes,” Ford said, jumping to her defense. “She’s the one who taught me the trick with the sour cream.”

“Huh. Well, I never say no to pancakes.” That was a lie. She could read them on him just like she could on Bill. Stan had spent over 30 years saying no to pancakes until he met a boy who didn’t think his thirteenth birthday was worth celebrating. So maybe even if he didn’t know why she would offer to make pancakes for him, he did at least know they were important. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“No you won’t. But it is true regardless,” Jheselbraum said. Bill hadn’t remembered this conversation by the time he had made it to Dimension 52, but he would come anyway and ask her to make pancakes. Maybe that was enough.

“You know, you are one strange lady. But with this crowd I guess that means you fit right in. See ya around.”

Jheselbraum’s smile was bittersweet and tinged with irony, but her answer was the unvarnished truth. “See you around.”

Once Stan had left, heading off to join his grandchildren running about at the edge of the trees, Ford turned to Jheselbraum. “Are you sure there’s no way to get rid of the powers or lock them down or drain them away or something?”

“There’s nothing that I can do here, no,” Jheselbraum said, still skirting the line between truth and honesty.

“You’re certain?” Ford pressed.

“You seem especially concerned by this. I assure you, the power poses no threat to Stan’s well-being,” Jheselbraum said.

“That’s not it,” said Ford. He sighed. “I’m not going to live for that much longer.”

“You still have a good number of years left,” Jheselbraum told him after a quick glimpse forward. True, relative to her he would be gone in less than an eye blink, but from his perspective he still had nearly a quarter of his lifespan to live out.

“A couple of decades, maybe,” Ford acknowledged. “A heart-attack at ninety-two, right?” Jheselbraum regarded him with a puzzled expression. He flashed her a tight smile and elaborated. “It was a joke Bill used to tell. It’s a bit less funny now after middle age, and after I learned he was an evil sociopath.”

Bill had cared a bit too much to be considered a sociopath, and Jheselbraum preferred to think of him as terrifying or horrible to truly evil, but she didn’t debate the point with Ford. Nor did she tell him that, despite Bill never showing any particular gift for prophecy in the time she had known him, she didn’t believe that his prediction had been fully intended as a joke. “Regardless, it still seems a bit soon for you to be worrying about your death.”

“A couple of years, a couple decades, that’s not really the point. The point is, I’m going to die eventually, but at the rate he’s going, I don’t think Stanley is. He’s still going to be here long after all the rest of us are dead and gone, and Stan doesn’t do well on his own.”

“He really wasn’t built for being alone,” Jheselbraum agreed softly.

Ford regarded her with a curious tilt to his head. “Jheselbraum are you aging?”

“All of us are aging, even Stan and myself. But no, physically my body isn’t getting any older and I won’t be dying of old age.”

“Then do you think you could watch out for Stanley? I know you already said he’d be welcome to visit you, but if you could keep an active eye on him in case of… anything, if he ever… He spent nearly forty years completely alone once, and I don’t want him to have to go through that again,” Ford said.

Jheselbraum wanted to be able to promise immediately and whole-heartedly to do whatever it took to keep Stan safe and happy; that was all she had ever wanted for him. But she had a different point of view on the timeline, and destiny was not always a kind thing. “There is far more at work here than either of you realize, but I’ll do what I can,” she offered finally.

“I’m sure that’ll be more than enough,” Ford replied. “I wouldn’t have even felt the need to ask, except he’s my brother. I can’t help but worry.”

“I understand,” Jheselbraum said.

Ford considered her for a moment, then said, “I hope I’m not prying, but whatever happened to your, your brother, I guess. Did the two of you fight or…?”

“Brother is as good a word as any,” Jheselbraum. “As to the fight… yes and no. We had certainly had a rather large difference in opinion by the end, but that’s not related to why he left or why he isn’t coming back. It’s a complicated situation, but simply put you could say I was made for him, but he wasn’t made for me.”

“Ah,” Ford said, and it was clear that he didn’t understand at all, but was too embarrassed or too polite to admit to it. “Well, even if he’s not going to come back to visit you, you could still go visit him in whatever dimension he’s in, couldn’t you? And maybe once you’re there you’ll find things aren’t as bad as you thought.”

“That’s a lovely thought. I’m sure I will see him again sometime in the future.” From one perspective or another, anyway.

Ford grinned. “That’s great. You know, I’d still like to meet him sometime, if I could.”

Jheselbraum laughed, free and ringing and perhaps just a tinge bitter. “What a funny request.”

She looked around one last time and was satisfied with what she saw there. This would do well for Stan for as long as it lasted. She placed her hands on Ford’s arms and her forehead to his in a gesture of goodbye. “Farewell Stanford Pines. Know that whatever else, I am fond of you.”

Ford was obviously surprised by her abrupt shift in topic, and it took him a moment to ask, “You’re leaving already? You’re sure you don’t want to stay awhile and catch up?”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Jheselbraum said gently.

“Why’s that?” Ford asked. Jheselbraum said nothing. After a moment Ford sighed and said. “Alright, if you say it’s not wise, then it’s not. I trust you.” His faith in her remained… unswerving. Of course. “Well, it was good to see you. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

“Maybe,” she prevaricated, though she didn’t see that happening. But she was not yet to the point to being beyond being surprised, so maybe.

Then she took a handful of steps and found herself back in her mountaintop home.

Jheselbraum smiled to herself, but it was a grim expression. When she had her head against Stan’s she had gotten a full feeling for his power. It was the same power as Bill’s, of course, but much smaller and younger, which made it much easier for her to see the exact shape of it. All the little details. All the weaknesses. She knew now what she needed to do.

Even knowing what that, there was the question of how to do it. It took her over a century to discover the proper method to accomplish what she wanted to and a few decades more to work out how to step through times like dimensions in the manner that Bill did. Once she had that, it was simply a matter of waiting. It would do no good to capture Bill Cipher if he was able to force his way out of it. She might be able to out-think Bill Cipher if she applied herself, but here there was no room for maybes. So she would need to wait until she could out-power him too.

It took decades, centuries, millennia, longer than any language had a word for, for no civilization had lasted long enough to need one. Jheselbraum was the seer, Bill was the doer, and he’d always been much stronger than she was. But she could wait as long as she needed. She knew she would get there eventually, because from a different perspective she already had.

Finally one day she knew, by the taste in the air and the way it felt sliding against her skin and the sound the whistling of the wind made and by the perception of every single one of her senses spread out across all existence, that it was time. She took her time in preparing and just before she left she allowed herself one deep breath in and out. Then she picked one foot up, placed it in front of the other and began walking. She walked back and back and back, until she reached the exact day and time that Bill Cipher had been trapped. From there it was only one small step into the Nightmare Realm, to do that which history told her she had already done.

Bill Cipher was openly elated to see her, and for a moment Jheselbraum wished to throw all destiny aside and meet the open arms he offered her with acceptance. But Bill had named her unswerving, and so she would be.

Jheselbraum held one hand aloft and snapped her fingers which was all it took now for her to pin Bill Cipher in place utterly and completely. She watched the panic flit across his countenance and did not let her expression of resolve falter.

“What did you do?” Bill Cipher demanded.

“You’re getting out of hand, so I’m putting you on time out. You won’t be leaving this place for a very long time.”

“Are you crazy? I’ll die here!” Bill Cipher said, and then there was a moment, just one fleeting moment, where Jheselbraum found herself hoping. Hoping beyond any sense of reason that Bill would recall the offer she had made him so long ago and ask for refuge in Dimension 52, and she knew she would allow him back to her peaceful mountaintop, if he asked her to. But he didn’t.

“You won’t die here,” Jheselbraum said, her voice strong. “One day Bill, you’re going to burn.” She left.

She didn’t make it far. Jheselbraum had intended to return home so she could meditate to try to come to peace with what untold eons hadn’t sufficiently prepared her for, but she was skimming the edge of the Nightmare Realm as she journeyed forward, and she felt the very instant Bill Cipher left  for Dimension 46’\, never return. She stumbled and came to a stop only a year and some after Bill had died. A year and some after he died and millennia before he would come to exist in the form she knew him.

The realm Bill Cipher had perfected swirled around her as she stood there, and Jheselbraum imagined she could see beauty in the madness. Some of the creatures he had created still lived, and they scurried about in the shadows, cowering away from her presence. For a moment Jheselbraum considered taking these bastard children of his in, but she dismissed the notion as quickly as it came. Bill Cipher had created these beings for himself, and though they would follow her if she demanded it, they wouldn’t want a leader such as her any more than she wanted companionship such as theirs. No, they would stay here and Jheselbraum would return to her dimension where she would be, save for the occasional dimensional traveler, alone, as she always had been, as she always should be.

Abruptly, Jheselbraum turned and let her feet lead her in a different direction. She could not linger here over long, but she would allow herself a few minutes more.

Standing on air shrouded in invisibility had always been more Bill’s skillset than hers, but now Jheselbraum performed the feats without any conscious thought. Just as well, as it gave her more focus to lend to the little boat bobbing in the ocean water below her. Neither Stan nor Ford were doing anything of particular interest, Ford scribbling away in a journal and Stan fishing, but Jheselbraum was rapt with attention at the easy way the two fit together. Ford would pose a question and no matter how vague or half-formed it was, Stan would know just what answer to supply. Or Stan would tell a joke and Ford would respond with an exasperated comment that did little to hide the mirthful twitching of his lips. Or neither of them would say anything and the silence will just stretch out between them, peaceful, content, and companionable. This was the first time that Jheselbraum had seen them together when the two of them were the same age and it struck her once again how much they really were the mirror image of each other.

A feeling of power began pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat through the air. Ford didn’t seem to notice at all, and Stan merely gave a quick glance at the sky, which might have only been a coincidence. None of the delicate equipment on the boat gave any signs of sensing anything unusual either, but then they wouldn’t if it didn’t want them to. No one was aware of its presence save Jheselbraum, and she could not bring herself to look just yet.

There was a part of Jheselbraum that had long since come to believe that, despite feeling occasional echoes and traces of its power, she would never come face to face with Axolotl again. Even the part of herself that refused to be resigned to that did not think she would be able to meet it until after she had become something beyond what she was now. That didn’t mean she hadn’t imagined this day and planned for it, with a whole list of things she wished to say and questions she wished to ask and, above all, gratitude that she wished to convey. However, now that Axolotl was here with her, as she watched Stan laugh jovially with his brother, there was only one request that came to Jheselbraum’s mind. She knew that one such as her had no right to ask such a thing from Axolotl, and yet… And yet Bill had named her unswerving, and so she would be.

Jheselbraum turned to look at Axolotl, this time about half her size and floating slightly curled in on itself and positioned as though sitting on the air. “You must do something for him.”

“There is far more at work here than you realize,” Axolotl said. There was something wry about his expression, but even so it was a long minute before she remembered her own words to Ford so long ago. Far from being chasten by this reminder, Jheselbraum was annoyed; of course she was aware there was more to this than she could comprehend, that’s why she had to applied to Axolotl for his help. Axolotl tilted his head at her and continued, “Just as he burns he calls me, and when he calls, I send him back home again.”

“Is that all you can do?” Jheselbraum demanded. She wasn’t sure what Axolotl’s actions even entailed really, but it hardly seemed sufficient to her. Jheselbraum was subject to the rules of the multiverse and she could not change that which she had seen as already done, but she was certain that Axolotl was not limited in the same way. Furthermore, it was the one who granted Stan his powers and sent him down the long and fraught path to becoming Bill Cipher, surely it could undo what it had done, undo it until it had never even happened in the first place.

“I could rip the fabric of reality asunder instead, but I like this reality, so I don’t think I will,” Axolotl said. “I do what I do because that is all there is to be done. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.”

Axolotl flicked its tail, and suddenly Jheselbraum found herself standing far displaced from where she had been in both time and space, though she was still in the same dimension at least. Here the sun was just beginning to rise over the distant horizon and the only sounds were the waves lapping steadily against the beach. The sand around her was littered with detritus, but most of it was small and unimportant. The only truly interesting on this beach was the boat perched above the high tide line. It was a bit smaller than the boat she’d just been watching, it had a sail instead of an engine, and rather than being worn but well-maintained, this boat was in a state of extreme disrepair. In fact, Jheselbraum thought the only real similarities between the two was that she could tell from just a glance that this boat was also owned by Stan and Ford.

Before Jheselbraum could go to take a closer look at the boat, having assumed that it was what Axolotl brought her here to show her, she became aware of the pattering of two pairs of running feet. She turned around just in time to see a small child pelt around the corner of a building up at the edge of the beach and come pounding down the sand toward the boat as he called over his shoulder, “Come on Sixer, you slow poke!” The boy turned around, and Jheselbraum found herself face-to-face with youngest version of Stan she’d ever seen.

Stan’s presence didn’t surprise her, it never could, but she was surprised when he stumbled to a halt and stared wide-eyed back at her. Belatedly Jheselbraum realized that when Axolotl had moved them, it had also removed the cloak of imperceptibility she had placed around herself. As there was no chance of escaping completely unnoticed, she allowed herself the time to give Stan a fond smile. Then she closed her three rightmost eyes and vanished again, all to the sound of Axolotl’s chortles.

“You did that on purpose,” Jheselbraum accused as Ford rounded the building as well, looking somewhat winded.

“I do everything on purpose,” Axolotl replied.

“Ford! You’ll never guess what I just saw. It was a monster, a real live monster standing right over there, then she winked at me and just disappeared,” Stan said, running up to his brother.

“A monster? What did she look like? And how did she disappear; do you think she made herself invisible or do you think she moved away too quickly for the human eye to see? Or maybe she’s an alien and she got teleported back to her ship.” Jheselbraum had spoken with enough Fords to know that Stan’s story was outlandish by the standards of this dimension, yet Ford accepted the story as true with no hesitation or reservation.

Jheselbraum watched with growing amusement at the back and forth between the two young boys as they discussed theories as to what she was. Stan and Ford really were made for each other, two halves of a whole. If this was the home that Axolotl sent Bill to then… well she still didn’t think it was enough, but it was certainly something worth doing.

“Nah, she ain’t dangerous. Like I said, she winked at me before she disappeared and she smiled, and it was a mom-smile,” Stan told Ford.

Jheselbraum laughed a little and, even though she knew the two boys couldn’t hear her, said, “You’ve got that backwards.”

At that Axolotl, who had been amusedly watching Stan and Ford as well, twisted a bit in the air and looked at her. “You weren’t made for him.”

“I wasn’t?” Jheselbraum asked skeptically. Watching Stan and Ford together had only thrown into relief for her all the empty spaces in Bill’s being and shown how she was almost perfectly made to fill those spaces, almost. What other reason could there be for Axolotl to grant her the powers he had?

“You were made for the same reason anyone is, for yourself,” Axolotl said. “Though I confess infusing you with a bit of my essence was something I did for me.”

She was so shocked by that revelation that Jheselbraum couldn’t think how to answer right away. The silence between the two of them stretched out for a long minute and it was Axolotl who finally broke it. “Even so, I’m happy with the way things work out between you two.”

Or at least that’s what it said in the native language of Jheselbraum’s childhood, but as ever she could hear the echo in its voice, saying the same thing in every language that ever was and ever would be casting levels of inflection and connotations into its words the native language of her childhood would never grant. That was how Jheselbraum knew.

“This is the last time, isn’t it? The last and the first.” Her last time meeting with Stan in any form, and his first time seeing her. There was poetry to it, and while Jheselbraum preferred time spent together to poetry, she preferred poetry to nothing. It granted some significance to what was otherwise just a series of events, most of which seemed to happen in the wrong order.

“The first, the last, and all the times in-between,” Axolotl said, its tone implying it was confirming her statement, even while his words seemed like nonsense to her.

“I don’t understand,” Jheselbraum said.

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re still very linear,” Axolotl said. It cocked its head a little to the side as it considered her very carefully. Its mouth was just a bit open as it did so, giving Jheselbraum the slightest of glimpses of its pink tongue and for a fleeting moment Jheselbraum had hope that it might press its tongue to her forehead yet again. But then it closed its mouth and gave her its closest approximation of a smile. “You’re still young yet. You’ll get there.”


End file.
